For an instant I was overwhelmed with terror and self-reproach. The bolted door before me gave notice of danger as plainly as though the word had been painted upon its front. The dark and lowering walls of the passage in which the Wolf figure of Doddridge Knapp had appeared and disappeared whispered threats. The close air was heavy with the suggestion of peril, and the solitary lamp that gave its dim light from the end of the passage flashed a smoky warning. And I, in my folly and carelessness, had brought Luella Knapp into this place and exposed her to the dangers that encircled me. It was this thought that, for the moment, unnerved me. “What does this mean?” asked Luella in a matter-of-fact tone. “It is a poor practical joke, I fear,” said I lightly. I took occasion to shift a revolver to my overcoat pocket. “Well, aren't you going to get me out of here?” she asked with a little suggestion of impatience. “That is my present intention,” I replied, beating a tattoo on the door. “You'll hurt your fists,” she said. “You must find some way besides beating it down.” “I'm trying to bring our friends here,” said I. “They should have been with us before now.” “Isn't there another way out?” asked Luella. “I suspect there are a good many ways out,” I replied, “but, unfortunately, I don't know them.” And I gave a few resounding kicks on the door. “Where does this stairway go, I wonder?” said Luella. “Into the celestial regions, I suppose,” I ventured. Matters were in too serious a position for the jest to be appreciated, and Luella continued: “It can't be the way out. Isn't there another?” “We might try the passage.” She gave a shudder and shrank toward me. “No, no,” she cried in a low voice. “Try the door again. Somebody must hear you, and it may be opened.” I followed her suggestion with a rain of kicks, emphasized with a shout that made the echoes ring gloomily in the passage. I heard in reply a sound of voices, and then an answering shout, and the steps of men running. “Are you there, Mr. Wilton?” cried the voice of Corson through the door. “Yes, all safe,” I answered. “Well, just hold on a bit, and we'll--” The rest of his sentence was lost in a suppressed scream from Luella. I turned and darted before her, just in time to face three Chinese ruffians who were hastening down the passage. The nearest of the trio, a tall dark savage with a deep scar across his cheek, was just reaching out his hand to seize Luella when I sprang forward and planted a blow square upon his chin. He fell back heavily, lifted almost off his feet by my impact, and lay like a log on the floor.